Cradle ascension box set, p.115
Cradle: Ascension: Box Set, page 115
The Dreadgod folded her hands on the table and looked up at him. “So what is it that you want from me?”
“You saw the stars disappear.”
At that, the Phoenix did flinch.
That was a good sign. Reigan pushed on. “We’re on the same team now. If the adopted son of the Destroyer succeeds in his goals, he will be rid of us. You will fade into nothing, and all my time in this world will be wasted. Who can match him if not for you?”
She chewed on the edge of her knife as she considered, and Reigan heard the shriek of the metal warping under her teeth. After a moment, she leaned over to a boulder sitting in the middle of the plain to her right.
“What do you think?” she asked.
The boulder disappeared.
In its place was a swirling gold-edged portal. Reigan shivered at the sight; she had hidden that spatial warp even from him. That was a level of skill in the sacred arts that he had very much hoped she hadn’t attained.
And she had veiled the spiritual pressure of the being on the portal’s other side.
The Wandering Titan stared through the portal with one colossal eye. Its voice vibrated through aura, drifting through as though the boulder spoke.
“We don’t need him.”
Reigan’s spirit chilled.
The Phoenix pointed the tip of her deformed knife at him. “He has a point. While we have control of ourselves, we can set up Monarchs of our own. I suspect we can even solve this problem of having to go back to sleep.”
“Lindon will not let you be,” Reigan insisted. “We can always ascend, but he needs you to die.”
“Not as badly as he thinks he does.” Leisurely, the Bleeding Phoenix stood from her chair. She stretched red wings behind her and smiled at him. “We’ll take that up with our brother.”
This was the worst possible turn of events.
Reigan Shen clutched the Wraith Horn. “He is not your brother.”
“Didn’t you all give him a name yourself? The Empty Ghost.”
The vision broke up as Emriss’ hand moved away from Lindon’s head.
“That’s all we can watch,” she said, but she didn’t need to explain.
“I felt it.”
The Phoenix had established further control over the space after speaking his name. It was difficult to say whether she was aware of Emriss watching her meeting or if she was simply exerting her authority over Reigan Shen, but to continue spying on them would have required wrestling wills with the Bleeding Phoenix.
That, she would certainly have noticed.
Emriss had removed her hand from Lindon’s forehead, but now she set her staff aside and took him by both shoulders. She peered with dark eyes into both of his and spoke earnestly. “Do not be taken in by them. Some of my peers believe that the Dreadgods have only gained intelligence after the death of Subject One, but they were always clever. You cannot negotiate with them.”
“I know,” Lindon said.
He could feel the influence of hunger madra. Even now, his arm was reminding him of how much power Emriss represented. By Consuming her, he could benefit from her wisdom and experience in addition to her madra.
What could Dross become with a dream Monarch’s power?
How long could Lindon live with a tree’s lifeline? He might become so close to immortal that even the other Dreadgods couldn’t kill him.
The worst part was that it wasn’t just the arm that was urging him forward. This was the hunger that had been in him from beginning; the desire to get stronger, now taken to an absurd extreme.
That was what the Dreadgods were made of. At their fundamental level, they were made to devour the world.
Negotiating with them was like bargaining with a wildfire. Or a virus.
A virus that could turn into a mountain-sized monster.
Emriss saw the sincerity in his eyes and visibly relaxed. She patted him on both shoulders. “Good boy. This is the best chance we have to be rid of them since the last Dread War, so I wouldn’t want us to give it up.”
“We have three problems left,” Lindon said.
Dross projected images of Malice, Sha Miara, and Reigan Shen into the air.
“If we’re lucky, the Bleeding Phoenix will take care of Shen for us,” Emriss said. “But I’ve never been so lucky. I don’t think his fate ends here.”
“What about Sha Miara?” Lindon asked.
“I can handle Miara. My concern is Malice.”
Lindon looked into the image of Malice, seated on her throne with her legs crossed and shadowy hair drifting behind her. Dross made her adopt a smug smile.
“There’s no telling what that girl will do if she feels cornered,” Emriss said sadly. “She might burn it all down rather than let someone take it, like the dragons she so despises.”
[Don’t worry, we have a personal contact with Malice. That will make it easier. I’m certain. I haven’t run the simulation, but—Oh, I just did. This makes it harder, doesn’t it? Way harder.]
Lindon stared at the floor in a corner of the room. Mercy was a few floors down, working on the Book of Eternal Night.
“We’ll try to talk her into ascending, if we can,” Lindon said.
Emriss raised one eyebrow. “Do you think that’s worth an attempt?”
“Yes. But not for Malice’s sake.”
“As long as you’re willing to do what’s necessary when that fails.”
Lindon could feel Dross’ thoughts in the back of his head. Dross was struggling not to tell him that there was a ninety percent chance Malice would never surrender and would instead go down trying to take as many people with her as possible.
“I’ll talk to Mercy,” Lindon said.
Emriss sighed. “Good luck.”
24
Mercy sat in the fifth page of the Book of Eternal Night. She was supposed to be taking it apart, as she had the first four pages, but instead she just let the never-ending nightmare flow around her.
It didn’t touch her as much as it had before.
She felt Lindon trying to enter the Book and allowed it. He could have forced his way in, but he wouldn’t.
The projection of his self appeared a moment later, and Mercy gave him a bright smile. “Tea?” she offered. She held out a cup.
Lindon looked from her to the tea set in front of her. She was seated on a blanket spread on the stone floor of this nightmarish cave, with the long-fingered inhabitants of the cavern system lurking around every corner.
She had a teapot and one cup, but she conjured another for him and began to pour.
Cautiously, Lindon sat down. “You seem like you’re doing well.”
“Not bad, right? Lovely weather we’re having.” Mercy waggled her eyebrows at the constant gloom that infused the air.
She handed him a cup.
“How are you really?” he asked. He didn’t drink yet.
Mercy looked around herself. “I thought this would be good training for me. If I can keep my mood up here, then it should be easy to face down my mother. Right?”
Lindon paused for too long before he sipped his tea. “I…hope so,” he said. Which told Mercy why he was here.
A shiver of fear passed through her that had nothing to do with the boundary field stored in this page of the Book. “It’s time, huh?”
“We can give you a little while to prepare,” Lindon said. “I wanted you to have a chance to talk to her. Before I did.”
Mercy could imagine what a talk between Lindon and her mother would look like. A part of her wanted to see that.
There was something satisfying about the thought of Akura Malice, Queen of Shadows, having to run from someone several centuries her junior.
But Malice lived up to her name. If Lindon cornered her, she would burn the entire clan to the ground rather than surrender. She would do anything to strike back, even if it meant taking the Ashwind continent with her. Or all of Cradle.
As long as something of the family survived, she would consider it a victory.
Mercy had practiced keeping her mood up in the middle of hostile dream aura, but now that was ruined. She stood up, tossing the tea aside.
Lindon carefully put his cup down.
“It’s just a memory,” she told him. “No need to be neat.”
“I know, but I don’t want to leave a mess inside your Book.”
Mercy laughed.
The fifth page closed at her will, melting away as the world around them shifted to the sixth page. Now they were in a six-sided room, and each of the six walls were mirrors.
Lindon glanced curiously around, although Mercy was a little embarrassed to show this to him. These were her own possible futures. At least, the ones her mother saw and wanted her to consider.
“Are these real predictions?” Lindon asked. “Or are they illusions?”
Mercy was about to reply when something occurred to her. “Can’t Dross tell?”
Dross appeared in a blink, arms folded and wearing a grumpy expression. [This whole world is made up! I can’t tell what’s real in here, can I? None of it’s real! That’s like finding the driest part of the ocean!]
“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” Mercy put on a concerned face to soothe Dross’ feelings, though she privately thought his indignation was funny. “It’s just that I don’t know either. I thought you would.”
[Oh yes, of course, I see that. In that case, in my professional opinion, it’s a mix of both. In broad strokes, these are possible versions of you, but they’re presented and arranged to make you focus on certain options.]
Dross sounded so certain that Mercy almost forgot how, a moment before, he’d denied having any idea.
Lindon dipped his head apologetically. “He doesn’t know.”
Dross pressed a tendril to where his chest would be, affronted. [How do you know? I’m Mercy’s Dross!]
Mercy herself hadn’t realized that. She looked to Lindon, uncertain of how to respond.
“He doesn’t really know,” Lindon assured her.
“Well, this isn’t the one I really wanted you to see. I’d like both of your opinions on the seventh page, but it’s…there’s a lot of my mother in it.”
[I’ve seen it!] Dross insisted.
Lindon nodded. “I’m ready.”
Mercy believed that, but she wasn’t sure she was. She had to shift her mentality again, as she’d done when she controlled the Silent King Bow.
She wasn’t working against her mother. Malice had lost her way a long time ago, and she was hurting the people she meant to protect.
Mercy had to do her mother’s job.
She turned to the seventh page, and their surroundings dissolved another time. This time, she was face-to-face before an Empress.
The Netherworld Empress was clearly based on Akura Malice…or perhaps it was the other way around. She had dark hair, though it didn’t flow like living shadow, and her eyes shone like cruel amethyst stars. She wore a crown of silver and elaborate ceremonial robes.
With a black bow of darkness in one hand and a spear at her side, she stood over a battlefield. It stretched for miles, and Remnants picked through thousands of strewn bodies. Aura of death and destruction choked the air, but the entire space was dominated by the will of the Empress.
Shadows rose from the bow like smoke, and with it in her hand, she gave off an impression of absolute control. As though she saw everything, had stood before this slaughtered army alone, and could stand before a hundred more.
It was hard for Mercy to meet her eyes.
She had forcibly opened the seventh page before, but it was meant to be mastered when she was a Herald. Mercy had a difficult time keeping her thoughts clear here, and she was supposed to integrate the Empress into herself. This was a manifestation of her own power, after all. Or at least what was supposed to be her own power.
“Incredible,” Lindon said. “Dross, can you tell how she did this?”
[She built an image of her ideal self. She’s so clear about it, and she put so much of her will into it, that it resonates with a bunch of Icons. You can sense that kind of thing more clearly than I can, though.]
Lindon began muttering. “Bow Icon, Shadow Icon, Strength Icon…is that the Crown Icon? It must be.”
Mercy struggled upward, trying not to kneel before the Empress. “How can you tell?”
“It’s something of an instinct, but it’s like imagining how well something matches an ideal. She makes me think of the ultimate archer, ruler, shadow artist, and I’d say she was intended to represent ultimate power as well. The energy in the page is meant to take you to Herald, but I can see how this might guide you to Sage instead.”
[Or afterward,] Dross pointed out.
Mercy suspected that was the case. The Book of Eternal Night was meant to contain Malice’s ideal Path, and therefore it must end at Monarch.
She finally caught her breath and was proud of herself for adapting, until she looked up to meet the Empress’ eyes.
Those purple beacons of light were shining on Lindon.
The Empress was focused on him, and she had her bow half-drawn. She glared at Lindon with the oppressive weight of her willpower.
Lindon’s body, a projection of his mind and spirit, began to flicker. He gazed wide-eyed at his fading self. “If we can put this much will into Dreadgod madra, we might be able to make a puppet-construct that could fight Monarchs. Do you think we could leave spirits behind that can prevent people from advancing to Monarch?”
[That’s a great idea! Let’s stay and examine it instead of helping Mercy.]
“Apologies, Mercy. I was distracted.”
[No, I was serious, this is way more interesting.]
Mercy forced a smile. “No, of course! Whatever you need to do.”
Her spirits had died. Not because Lindon wasn’t helping her—the fact that he was in here at all, giving her insights into her own Book, was more than she could have asked—but because of how much help she still needed.
Lindon noticed. “Forgiveness, please. I shouldn’t have lost concentration.”
The Empress was still focused on him, but he was ignoring her.
“That’s not it, I…” She sighed. “My mother left memories about what it took for her Herald advancement, when she was becoming a Monarch. It was terrifying. Her Remnant almost killed her, and she almost killed it. The spiritual damage was so bad that she took months to recover, even after her advancement.”
“We can help you with that,” Lindon said confidently.
“That’s what I’m saying! You didn’t need this much help. I’ve had someone holding my hand since I was a girl.”
She paced and fretted, but continued speaking, baring her soul while standing in the depths of her spirit. “At first, it was easy. I was just better than everyone else. And then, when I’d proven myself, I had a Sage and a Herald teaching me. My mother’s a Monarch! And still, you and Yerin—”
“Eithan turned out to be the Reaper of Worlds,” Lindon pointed out.
Mercy hesitated. “That’s…that’s true, but…”
Lindon folded his arms and walked in front of Mercy, turning his back on the Empress. She looked furious and redoubled the force of her glare, but Lindon didn’t flinch. His body did start flickering more rapidly, though.
“I have received more help than anyone in the universe. Even most of my power is stolen. There’s nothing noble about doing everything yourself. You just have to do your best to honor the help you’ve gotten.”
Then he stepped out of the way and continued, “We want you to persuade your mother into ascending.”
Mercy stared at the Empress that represented her mother’s ideal self. Even with most of her attention taken up by Lindon, she was still intimidating.
“She won’t,” Mercy said certainly.
“Then I’ll have to kill her.”
That shook her, though it wasn’t anything she didn’t already know.
Lindon spoke earnestly. “Will you be happy if you didn’t try?”
She wouldn’t.
Her Archlord revelation had been ‘To bring light.’ To bring light, she had to at least try carrying a torch into the deepest darkness.
Mercy squared her shoulders and faced down the Empress. “I’ll need work.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Lindon said. “We won’t leave you by yourself until you’re—”
Lindon vanished.
Mercy and Dross both stared at the space where he had just stood.
[Was that a joke?] Dross asked. [You know I don’t understand your humor. Lindon?]
“Go check, Dross,” Mercy ordered.
Dross disappeared. Maybe Lindon had been joking. The timing was suspicious. But that hadn’t looked like he’d left voluntarily. The Empress certainly hadn’t shoved him out.
Either the Book had activated a self-defense mechanism they’d never seen before, or something had pulled Lindon away.
With Lindon gone, the full force of the Empress’ attention was on Mercy, but now it was an annoying distraction. Weight gathered on Mercy’s mind and spirit, trying to force her down, to make her submit.
Mercy glared back at the Empress. “Not now!”
For a moment, the pressure retreated.
Dross popped back in, flying in panicked circles. [He’s gone! I’m gone! The original me is missing, and I can’t feel him!]
“Dross, tell me where Lindon is.”
[He’s gone! That’s what I’m telling you! He disappeared!]
Mercy wasn’t ready to panic just yet. “Didn’t he just leave?”
Dross grabbed Mercy by the collar. [Mercy, he cannot get so far that I can’t sense him without going through a portal. And he can’t do that. Either the labyrinth brought him somewhere without him giving an order, or someone took him.]
There were only a handful of beings in the world capable of taking Lindon anywhere against his will, and none of them would find it easy.
If they took him, they were prepared for him.
Mercy shrugged off the Empress again and shed the Book, returning to herself in a dark room.
She stretched her own spiritual awareness out. Dross couldn’t sense as far as she could; at least, her version of Dross.
